


Cursed

by melody1987



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Howl's Moving Castle AU, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Monster Bruce, monster fucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-08
Updated: 2018-10-21
Packaged: 2019-05-19 21:15:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14881320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melody1987/pseuds/melody1987
Summary: In which someone mentions a Howl's Moving Castle Batjokes au and mellie has to write something for it to preserve her sanity





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, thanks to Jokersby bringing up the idea of a Howl’s Moving Castle Batjokes au and then drawing [**this lovely thing**](https://jokersby.tumblr.com/post/174259146127/binkybunboy-a-hearts-a-heavy-burden-kofi), the idea has taken over my life and I’ve had no choice but to write this silly thing for it. I’m going by the book rather than the movie for this one and, for those who’ve never seen or read it, [this](https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Howl%27s_Moving_Castle) should give you a brief rundown of what it’s about. Honestly, it’s one of my favourite stories and I can’t recommend it enough. 
> 
> In this Joker takes the place of Wizard Howl, Bruce is Sophie Hatter and Harley is Michael (or Markl as he’s known in the movie). Calcifer I have some ideas on but haven’t bothered going into them for this one shot and the curse put on Bruce turns him into some kinda were-bat, rather than making him old, because I thought it’d keep the batman theme going and cos I love monster!Bruce and haven’t written about him yet :D
> 
> (I haven’t edited this too well cos I can’t be assed so feel free to point out any mistakes)

There were many occasions over the past few months that Bruce wondered why he’d ever chosen to throw his lot in with Wizard Howl. And this time was no different.

At first, when an almighty slam followed by several crashes met his ears, Bruce thought someone was trying to break in. But, racing to the stairs, what he found was the wizard himself on all fours, furiously shushing the door as if the ruckus was entirely its fault.

Bruce relaxed and rolled his eyes with a sigh that was relieved and exasperated in equal measure. So, not a burglar, just an extremely drunk Howl. He thought he might have preferred the former. Would've probably been easier to deal with.

Bruce was tempted to go back to his room and leave Howl - or Jay as he preferred to be known - to it, but considering how much noise he was still making just by trying to stand up, Bruce decided to help. Harley had a big proposal planned in the morning for the florist’s apprentice, Ivy and nodding off halfway through it probably wouldn’t go down very well.

Jay was halfway upright when he saw Bruce approach and his face brightened immediately, offering one of those smiles that always made Bruce’s stomach do strange - but not entirely unpleasant - things.

“Hi!” Jay said before wincing and repeating it in a whisper. “Apologies for the noise. The, um, what’sit,” he clicked his fingers. “ _ Doorknob _ and I had a little disagreement.”

He reached behind him to pat the door and missed, almost falling over again.

“Those hinges are awfully loud as well, don’t you think?”

Bruce nodded. “Yeah, almost as loud as a very drunk man falling through a door.”

Only just fully upright and leaning heavily against the wall, Jay actually tried to look offended. “I do hope you’re not referring to me, dear Brucie,” he said, sounding surprisingly eloquent despite the slurring of his words. “I think you’ll find I am cone sold stober!”

A snort came from the fireplace and Jay glared in its direction, licking the pad of his thumb and pressing it against his forefinger. “I’ll snuff you out for good,” he hissed.

“I’d like to see you try,” the fire demon replied. “You wouldn’t even make it halfway here.”

Taking the challenge, Jay pushed himself away from the wall and nearly fell flat on his face before Bruce caught him by the waist.

“Alright, alright,” Bruce said as he steered Jay back towards the stairs. “That’s enough.” 

“Yes,  _ Jay _ , that’s enough.”

Bruce threw a warning glance at the fire demon, who poked out its tongue before gobbling up a log of wood. The relationship between Jay and the demon was an odd, tempestuous thing, but, despite having lived in the castle for months, Bruce was no closer to understanding it than when he’d first arrived. And it was far too late, or early if the pale yellow light creeping over the horizon was anything to go by, to think about right then.

Slinging Jay’s arm over his shoulders and readjusting his grip on Jay’s waist, Bruce began the difficult task of helping the inebriated wizard climb the stairs. Jay sang softly as he went, the tune and words unintelligible, but Bruce was sure he heard the word  _ saucepan  _ in there somewhere. He still hadn’t asked what the fire demon’s silly song was all about but it’d apparently taught it to Jay - or perhaps Jay had taught it to the demon.

As they passed Harley’s room, Jay’s singing grew louder and when Bruce shushed him, he shushed Bruce loudly in return before bursting into giggles. Bruce rolled his eyes and said nothing and tried to ignore how tightly the wizard was pressing up against him as he opened the bedroom door.

Bruce hadn’t dared venture inside the room since his last attempt at cleaning it, which had resulted in a hair dye mishap and a tantrum unlike any Bruce had ever seen. He didn’t know if all wizards could emit slime from their own bodies but he had no intention of ever finding out. But leading Jay inside, he discovered it wasn’t  _ quite  _ as awful as expected, although Bruce still had to kick half a closet’s worth of clothing, as well as several items he was too afraid to identify, out of the way before he could help Jay over to the bed. Sitting him on the edge, Bruce was ready to once again leave Jay to it until he saw how much trouble he was having with his boots. Another sigh and Bruce kneeled in front of him, swatting his hands away from the laces to take over.

“Much obliged, darling,” Jay murmured, patting the top of Bruce’s head. And Bruce had to wonder how he could use a word like  _ obliged  _ when he struggled to even walk. 

The hands settled on Bruce’s head as he removed the first boot before sliding into his hair, and the bow Bruce had been in the process of untying became a tangled knot. The fingers started smoothing through the strands with surprising care over and over, which was very,  _ very  _ distracting…

But Bruce didn’t ask him to stop.

“You have lovely hair,” Jay muttered absently. “How is it so lovely? I’m close to becoming jealous.”

Bruce might have told him that a lifetime of not subjecting it to every chemical known to man probably helped but couldn’t quite get his tongue to cooperate, so kept quiet and finished removing the second boot. He was about to scan the room for a spot that’d keep the shoes well out of tripping range when Jay’s hands slid out of his hair, coming down to cup his face and tilt it upwards. Their eyes met, icy blue to marble green and when Jay brought their faces close enough for their foreheads to meet, Bruce’s pulse started to race.

“Bruce,” Jay said in a voice as soft as the hands holding his jaw. His brows were drawn together in a gentle frown and he seemed to be trying very hard to focus. Bruce could smell the alcohol on his breath but even that wasn’t enough to make him pull away.

Jay’s focus increased even more and it was a very long and intense moment before he spoke again.

“I’m drunk,” he declared and didn’t sound too happy about it.

“What gave it away?” Bruce laughed, and Jay laughed too, lurching forward as gravity suddenly got the better of him, forcing his hands to hold Bruce’s shoulders as Bruce held him steady by the waist.

“But,” Jay continued, serious again (which Bruce was grateful for because he couldn’t have withstood that damn smile much longer). He held a finger up which swayed a little from side to side. “I’m gonna get this curse off you, don’t you worry.”

He gently patted Bruce’s cheek as Bruce froze in place.

Jay smiled again and tapped his temple - or tried to. It took a few tries for him to actually find it - and said, “Wizard, remember,” as if able to read the question in Bruce’s face.

When Bruce found the ability to speak again, he wetted his suddenly bone dry lips and asked, “How...how long have you known?”

“Long enough to have tried every spell I know without success,” Jay sighed. “I’m beginning to think you like being a giant werebat.”

Bruce ducked his head, shoulders drooping in shame. He thought he’d been so careful. He always left the castle at the first sign of the change coming on, running far into the waste to avoid coming across other people (he’d never forgive himself if he hurt anyone). But the wizard, and everyone else in the house it seemed, already knew and had done for months, and had most likely been talking about him behind his back the entire time. Bruce knew it was his own fault for thinking he’d be able to hide something like this from someone like Jay because, for all his narcissistic self-absorption, he was alarmingly perceptive - and that only made Bruce feel even more foolish. 

It must have all been written clearly on Bruce’s face because Jay brought their foreheads together again, lacing his fingers together at the nape of Bruce’s neck as if to hold him in place. 

“Come, now, no brooding. You know how I hate it.”

But Bruce wasn’t listening, too embarrassed now by the pity he saw in Jay’s gaze, and wanted nothing more than to leave the castle and never come back. And as the shame grew a dull ache began in the back of Bruce’s skull. It spread slowly but steadily to every part of his body, followed by heat that warmed by the second and Bruce knew he had to leave before something awful happened.

Scrambling away from the bed, he ran for the door, ignoring the cries of his name that came from behind, rushing down the stairs and out the door as fast as he possibly could. The change, once it fully took hold, progressed fast and even as he ran he could feel his body changing, limbs growing longer and thinner, bones breaking and fusing together, causing wave after wave of agony. But Bruce didn’t stop. He pushed through the pain as he raced through the grass to get away, far, far away from everyone and everything. 

About a mile from the castle, he had to stop as the pain got too much and he curled in on himself to let the last stage of transformation take place. His skin turned from red to purple to blue to black, hair sprouting all over his body as long leathery wings grew from his back and arms. And the last human sound he made was a scream that echoed into the dawn before choking into silence.

He laid there for a very long time, heaving and panting as his body and senses acclimated to the change and that was when he heard the sound - grass rustling a few feet away. His head shot up and, with eyes that bathed everything in shades of blue and green, saw a figure approaching, crouching lower with every step it took.

Bruce knew the figure, recognised the shape and smell, but couldn’t give it a name, the human and monster sides of his brain fighting one another for control. He wanted to back away but was too exhausted to move and snarled as a warning, but it went unheeded, the figure dropping onto hands and knees to crawl ever nearer. 

When it was close enough, the figure reached out and other smells hit, smells that didn’t belong, sweet and artificial and, had it been anybody else, Bruce would have attacked. But this one...he knew this one, knew it was safe and let the hand gently touch his nose before slowly and carefully sliding up into the fine hair covering his head. 

“Bruce,” the figure said, eyes of marble green looking deep into his. And hearing something in that voice which spoke to something deep inside of him, Bruce let out a snuffling sound, soft and sad.

“Shh, shh, shh,” the figure cooed, settling in front of Bruce and bringing its other hand up to cradle his face. “It’s alright. We’ll have you right before you know it.”

Bruce’s face moved from side to side, as if to disagree and the figure leaned in to rest their heads together. And as more sad snuffles and gentle whines fell from Bruce’s lips, he was held close, both of them sitting in the long grass together, letting the sun rise around them.

How long they were there, Bruce couldn’t say but the sun was high when he felt the first stirrings of humanity calling him back. The figure that hadn’t yet let go held Bruce tight as he wept and screamed his way through the change, until finally he was himself once more. 

Bruce couldn’t bring himself to look at Jay, so it was up to the wizard to once again tip Bruce’s face up to his. He didn’t say anything, didn’t need to and when their lips came together in a soft and reassuring kiss, Bruce thought he might weep all over again.

But he didn’t have chance because Jay pulled away and, looking significantly more sober than he’d been when Bruce ran out, offered a small smile.

“I dunno about you, but I could murder some breakfast.”

It was the last thing Bruce had expected to hear and didn’t know what else to do besides laugh and nod. He felt awful, head thumping as if he’d been drinking all night, too and, when Jay stood, Bruce followed.

As they walked, Jay stripped off his shirt and handed it to Bruce.

“Luckily for you, I like oversized shirts.”

Bruce accepted it gratefully, having no idea where his own clothes were. Not that they’d be wearable even if he found them. But it was alarming to see just how skinny Jay really was, ribs strikingly prominent under his pale skin. Bruce didn’t let his eyes linger for too long.

“It’s a good thing you ran out this door and not one of the others,” Jay remarked, sounding much more like himself - even if he didn’t look it - as his voice dropped to a dramatic stage whisper. “Imagine the gossip!”

Despite himself, Bruce laughed a second time and, by the time they reached the castle, even with the prospect of stepping inside in nothing but Jay’s ridiculously flouncy shirt, the despair he’d felt when he left was almost entirely gone. 

“Calcifer!” Jay called as they entered. “Bend your head, I’m in a mood for bacon and eggs.”

[ ](http://i.imgur.com/q3uybLV)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I which mellie introduces some monster fucking

Bruce was dragged out of his thoughts by a rap on the knuckles. Lifting his gaze, he saw the prongs of a fork coming alarmingly close to his face.

“Brooding,” Jay said, wagging the fork like a finger. “Stop it.”

Bruce met his eyes, which, despite the scolding, were as soft as they’d been since the pair of them returned to the castle, and managed to lift the corner of his lips in a small smile. After a long moment of scrutiny, Jay seemed to be appeased and speared another slice of bacon, letting the room fall into surprisingly comfortable silence once more. 

Just a few hours ago, Jay had watched Bruce transform into a hideous monster. He’d shown no fear, no revulsion and had held him through the painful transition back to human. Now they were eating breakfast together as if it was any other morning and Bruce couldn’t decide whether the lightheadedness was part of the comedown from the change or because the kiss from Jay suggested Bruce’s feelings weren’t as one-sided as he thought.

He didn’t get a chance to work it out. With a level of drama that almost -  _ almost  _ \- surpassed Jay, the door swung open, slamming into the wall and Harley entered wearing a smile so wide it was a wonder her face could stretch far enough to carry it. 

“I’m getting married!” she declared, bouncing inside, some of the petals and leaves that flew off the small bouquet in her hand landing in Bruce’s food.

She began detailing the entire proposal from start to finish, half of it unintelligible through the squeals and excited tumble of her words, and she was soon lost enough in the story that Bruce - after offering his congratulations, of course - started a quiet retreat up the stairs. 

He didn’t get any further than the first step when Harley cried, “Where are your  _ clothes _ ?”

Bruce paused, confused at first until he remembered he was still wearing nothing but Jay’s shirt. Recognising it (who wouldn’t? It was the most ridiculous piece of clothing ever crafted from cotton and lace), Harley’s eyes went back and forth between the two men until Jay came to the rescue.

“Bruce the buffoon went for a run and fell into the river. Ha, I could turn that into a nursery rhyme! But, who cares about that? You’re getting married, Harley, and a wedding means only one thing -  _ shopping _ ! I’ll need a brand new suit for the occasion.”

Bruce rolled his eyes - of course Jay would put his own outfit before the bride’s - but he was grateful for the distraction as it allowed him to continue up the stairs and disappear into his bedroom. And the first thing he did when he got inside was remove the shirt. How anyone could stand to wear clothing like that was beyond him, the flouncy cuffs were impractical for a start, not to mention  _ silly _ , and he was glad to change back into something normal. 

And speaking of shopping, at this rate Bruce was going to need to do some himself very soon. He’d ruined his fourth outfit now and with more changes undoubtedly to come, his remaining items of clothing weren’t going to last much longer. It gave him a much needed excuse to leave the castle for a while, take a break from the place and the people in it, even if only for a few hours.

So, waiting until the hubbub had died down, Bruce quietly made his way back downstairs to find it deserted save for Calcifer, who immediately asked where Bruce was going. Nosy thing. Not that he could blame it, anyone would go stir crazy if they were cooped up in a fireplace day in day out.

“Town. I won’t be long,” Bruce replied, twisting the doorknob until the purple blob pointed downwards and opening the door onto a bright and sunny Gotham.

-

“Here you are.”

Looking up from the new bench he was halfway through nailing down - Harley had gotten a little carried away with the celebratory dancing - Bruce saw Jay leaning against the doorway that connected the castle to the flower shop. His hair was freshly dyed to an almost luminous green and he must have had plans for the evening as he was wearing a full face of makeup.

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

Bruce didn’t bother to deny the accusation. After his trip into town, which he’d dragged out for as long as possible, he’d spent the rest of the day pottering around the castle, finding any chore he could to keep himself busy and out of everyone’s way. With Harley absorbed in wedding plans and Jay, well, being  _ Jay _ , Bruce had held onto the vague hope of nobody noticing, or at least being too busy to care. But Jay seemed to have a knack for failing to live up to his narcissistic reputation at the most inconvenient times.

“After I made you breakfast,” Jay tutted, stepping leisurely into the room. “ _ And _ let you ruin one of my favourite shirts.”

“It’s hardly ruined,” Bruce replied, hammering the nail into the wood before reaching for another. “All I did was wear it.”

“Exactly! Look at the size of you, it’ll be all stretched and misshapen now. Ruined.”

“Then it’s a good thing I’ve replaced it.” Although right now Bruce was tempted to throw it out.

“Oh, well, in that case I take it back, all’s forgiven!” Jay settled on the floor beside him. “Or maybe not, considering your sense of style.”

Bruce ignored that remark, already well aware of Jay’s opinion on his fashion sense, or lack thereof.

“But it doesn’t change the fact that you’ve been harder to pin down than a hyperactive flea.” Jay nudged him with his elbow. “Aren’t we friends anymore?”

Bruce paused. Friends. If only it were that simple.

“Things needed doing,” he replied, nodding in the direction of the bench. “And I assumed you’d spend all day sleeping off the hangover or locked in the bathroom. Or both.”

“Well, yes, I  _ was _ , but you could have joined us for dinner, at least. We had to rely on Harley’s cooking and the less said about that the better.”

Bruce was tempted to say that, since Jay had made breakfast, he was clearly more than capable of making dinner, too, but didn’t bother. He was tired of the conversation so tried shifting it elsewhere. 

“Are you going out again?”

Jay gave Bruce a knowing look but seemed happy to play along. “Oh, no. I just want to make the most of this face while I can.”

Jay offered his sunniest grin and it made Bruce feel like an absolute wretch. Here he was wallowing in self-pity when right beside him was a man facing a future far worse - ending his days a literal shell of his former self. Were-batism (was that a word?) barely seemed worth worrying about in comparison. And the worst of it was that Bruce was sure he’d found a way to fix it but, without even the slightest aptitude for magic, he was more likely to kill the wizard during the process than save him. If witches and wizards weren’t so notoriously hard to find (or dangerous) he could’ve hunted down another to help, but time didn’t seem to be on their side for that. Jay’s curse, or contract as Calcifer called it, would kick in when Jay was ten thousand days old and despite the wizard's best attempts to hide the actual date, Bruce knew it was close.

It left an awkward silence hanging between them - the very thing Bruce had spent all day trying to avoid - and when Jay showed no sign of leaving, Bruce started searching for excuses to do so himself. But, just as he was about to down tools, the silence was broken with a sigh and, for the first time since they’d met, Jay actually looked... _ sheepish _ .

“Bruce, my memory is rather fuzzy but I do believe drunk me made a promise that sober me may not be able to fulfil.”

Despite his best attempts, the disappointment settled heavily in Bruce’s gut. Not that he’d had much faith in his curse being removed by this point but the confirmation wasn’t easy to hear.

“I’ve been trying everything - spells, potions, even counter curses - but to no avail. I’ll keep trying, of course, because there’s nothing worse than ending your career on a low note, but...”

Jay trailed off and for the briefest blink-and-you’ll-miss-it moment there was sadness in his expression, an emotion Bruce shared keenly. He hadn’t yet known the wizard a full year but already struggled to imagine a life without him. But while Bruce’s melancholy lingered, Jay’s quickly turned to frustration.

“Of course, it doesn’t help that I haven’t been able to find you all day or that you seem to be working as hard to keep the curse on yourself as the witch did putting it on you. Honestly, for a man so riddled with self loathing, you seem awfully keen to stay the way you are.”

Bruce frowned, confused and, frankly, offended. Jay had gone from apologising to insulting him in the space of a couple of minutes. “What are you talking about? Why would I want to keep a curse on  _ myself _ ?”

Jay shrugged. “You tell me. You may not  _ mean  _ to, darling, but you are. It’s like a wall blocking my path, reinforcing the original spell, making it stronger, stickier. No matter how hard I strike, I can’t get through.”

“Well, what am I supposed to do? If I don’t even know I’m doing it…”

Jay pursed his lips, gaze settling on the window as if the answer might be there on the sunset lit street outside. When he turned back to Bruce, his eyes were filled with something that both warmed Bruce and made him want to flee from the room.

“Stop running.”

That wasn’t an answer Bruce had been expecting and he wondered if Jay had moved onto a new conversation in his head but forgotten to tell him.

“From the curse,” Jay clarified. “Stop running away from it. You’re working so hard to suppress it that you never try to understand it. If you just, I don’t know, accept it for what it is, you might find it easier to deal with.”

Accept it? That was the last thing Bruce wanted to do. Acceptance meant giving up, giving  _ in _ and if he did that -

“Good Lord look at you,” Jay chuckled. “I know you're terrified but if you keep fighting it, pushing it down, down, down, all it’s going to do is make the curse cling on tighter. And leads to episodes like this morning. If you stop fighting, then you have a chance to gain control.  _ Embrace it _ . Really, what’s the worst that could happen?”

“It could kill people,” Bruce said, hotly. “ _ I  _ could kill people. I can’t give that monster free rein. I can’t…”

Bruce shook his head. It was the reason he’d left his home in the first place. One life was more than enough to have on his conscience. If he did as Jay said, what was to stop more people getting hurt? What if he hurt Harley? Or Jay? No, he couldn’t let that happen.

“I’m not talking about letting your inner bat take over, just acknowledging that it’s there. Denial’s doing you no favours, sweetheart.”

Bruce shook his head again, avoiding Jay’s eye, which led to the wizard scooting closer before almost climbing into Bruce’s lap just to get a glimpse of his face.

“You didn’t hurt  _ me _ . You had every opportunity but here I am without so much as a scratch.”

Jay pushed up his sleeves and lifted his arms close enough to Bruce’s face that they touched his nose.

“See? So, your little beastie isn’t beyond help. But if you do nothing, it soon will be. It'll only get worse.”

When Bruce didn’t respond, Jay rested his hand on Bruce’s wrist, thumb running back and forth.

“And it is getting worse, isn’t it?”

Bruce closed his eyes. The changes had been getting progressively more frequent and painful, coming on more quickly, and he was starting to feel a restlessness that he couldn’t soothe or explain. He was feeling less and less himself with each passing day and, yes, he was  _ terrified _ . He didn’t want to be like this anymore, didn’t want to hurt people. Didn’t want to lose himself to a monster.

Fingers slid into Bruce’s hair, pushing it away from his face and when his eyes opened, they were filled with tears.

“Darling.” Jay cupped Bruce’s face, bringing their foreheads together. Just like this morning. “Let me help you.”

“Why?” Bruce managed to choke out. The wizard wasn't altruistic in any way, shape or form - he hadn’t earned the name Heartless Howl for nothing (and, no, it hadn’t come about because of his curse, either). But even if he’d been a saint, he had so many more important things to worry about. Why waste what little time he had left on someone else’s problems?

Jay brushed a stray tear from Bruce’s cheek before he replied.

“Because I’m hopelessly in love with you.”

Through sheer surprise, Bruce managed a snort of laughter. 

“He laughs! But is it because he doesn’t believe me or because he doesn’t return the feeling?”

Through his watery gaze, Bruce looked into Jay’s eyes, searching the marble green for a motive. Even if he was starting to think Jay might care for him, love was, well, there was just no way. Why would he?

Jay squeezed Bruce’s cheeks, eyes going left to right, as if examining him. “Hmm, you don’t believe me. Well, that’s better than the alternative. Although it would serve me right to be the broken hearted one for once.”

Bruce frowned again. Was he - was he serious? It wasn’t unlike the wizard to spout words of love and romance if it benefitted him but Bruce couldn’t see anything to gain from it here. So...maybe he was. Maybe Jay really did love him. 

Jay smiled.

“Perhaps you need more convincing.”

And his grip on Bruce’s face softened as he brought their lips together in a kiss.

It began just like their last, chaste, tender, loaded with affection, and that would have been enough for Bruce to finally believe him. But then Jay slowly opened his mouth and, in response, Bruce did too, and as the kiss deepened it removed any doubt. Jay was in love with him and the realisation was enough for Bruce to throw all hesitation aside and pull Jay into his lap to kiss back with everything he had. 

It ended far too soon, Jay pulling away with a chuckle to say something about red being Bruce’s colour, but Bruce wasn’t really listening, diving right back in with a passion that surprised even himself. 

When Jay’s lips parted from his a second time, Bruce didn’t chase them, resting his forehead against Jay’s cheek to give himself a moment to breathe. His heart was racing and his skin felt hot and he was hypersensitive to Jay’s touch, every brush of fingertips along his jaw, through his hair, down his neck. He sighed and nuzzled the crook of Jay’s neck until the sound of the door shutting pulled his head back up. 

“It was me,” Jay murmured, locking the door with  a flick of the wrist, before offering a grin that made Bruce’s already racing heart beat even faster. He looked...God, Bruce had never seen him look like this before, makeup smudged, face flushed, all performance dropped, the need in his eyes mirroring Bruce’s own. And it wasn’t long before they were kissing again, urgently now, Bruce shivering as hands ran down his body and slid under his shirt to pull it off. The heat continuing to grow, spreading and consuming like a fever as Jay’s hands roamed. Skin tingling and becoming painful to the touch. Fingers trembling. Blood roaring in his ears -

“Bruce?”

His head was lifted to meet eyes swimming with concern. 

“Bruce, what -” 

But Bruce was already ahead of him, frantically pushing Jay off his lap. No, no, no, not this, not now,  _ please _ , anything but this. When Jay didn’t let go, Bruce tried yelling at him to get away but his plea was cut short by a violent crack of his spine, stealing the breath from his lungs. His body convulsed, bones snapped, ears ringing as he scrambled backwards. Wave after wave after wave of pain that made his vision turn white and screams die to pitiful whimpers as consciousness faded and the last of the transformation took place. 

When he came to, it was to a world that felt foreign yet familiar. But he paid it no mind as there, just a few feet away, someone was watching. Someone he knew.

_ Jay. _

For a long time neither moved, each watching the other, waiting as Bruce took in smells and sounds and adapted to his surroundings.

When Jay’s scent hit, he was filled with a sudden and desperate need for contact, seeking a comfort he somehow knew Jay could offer. But his body was too exhausted to move and all he could manage was to extend a hand, claws scratching against the wood as he growled softly, begging the man to come near.

Jay did, slowly and carefully and when their hands touched - Jay’s now so much smaller than his - there wasn’t a trace of fear from either of them. Bruce was welcomed into the circle of Jay’s arms to bury his nose into his neck, letting the smell of the man soothe the restless ache that seemed to run through his veins. Breathing, breathing, a sense of calm settling over them both, the steady rise and fall of Jay’s chest lulling Bruce into a doze until…

A scent. Faint, mingling with Jay’s, one he recognised but couldn’t quite name. He inhaled deeply, trying to catch as much of it as he could, following it up the neck and along the jaw to the point where it seemed strongest. At the corner of Jay’s lips he stopped and, with two deep breaths, the connection was finally made. The scent was his.

_ His _ . The knowledge brought with it memories of touch, taste and feeling, lighting a spark that made him want more. He took hold of Jay’s jaw, who made no protest and even leaned into the touch as Bruce moved his nose up into his hair. Neck arching as Bruce moved back down and removing the shirt when Bruce nuzzled into the open collar, leave his upper body completely exposed. 

Bruce moved over every inch of skin and Jay offered encouragement with gentle scratches around his ears and down his neck, the sensation pulling soft little growls out of Bruce, making him purr. Laughter vibrated in Jay’s chest, tickling Bruce’s nose and he snorted, which only made Jay laugh even more. In a moment of playfulness, he bared his teeth to gently nip Jay’s shoulder and, the moment his lips touched flesh, his ears catching the sound that Jay made, Bruce knew that smell was no longer enough. 

Looking up, their eyes met and Jay held his face, pressing their foreheads together to tell him it was alright.

Claws burying into hair, Jay’s head was tipped back and Bruce slowly ran his tongue from shoulder to throat, lips closing around the skin to get his first real taste. It was even more intoxicating than the smell and he growled, a gentle heat stirring within, and, needing only a little more encouragement, his tongue continued upwards, rolling over Jay’s chin and cheek and, finally, across his mouth.

Jay’s lips parted, breath catching on its way out and, in the rush of excitement, Bruce’s grip on his hair tightened and he tugged, opening Jay’s mouth wider to run his tongue along his lower lip. His other self would have expected Jay to take advantage of the moment, but this form was still learning and wasn’t ready for Jay’s tongue to slide out and meet his. Or for their mouths to be brought together in a feverish kiss. 

Growling again, Bruce dragged his claws down Jay’s back and swallowed the moans as he laid him on the floor. He explored Jay’s body all over again, biting, licking, scratching to commit it all to memory, guided as much by Jay’s responses as his own curiosity. It was a struggle to retain control, not to bite too hard or scratch too deep, getting worse as he moved further down the stomach to catch a smell that made his nostrils flare and a snarl roll off the tongue. He knew what that smell meant and his own body reacted in kind and he pawed impatiently at the clothing, wanting,  _ needing _ it gone. Jay made quick work of the buttons and pushed the trousers down to his thighs and Bruce inhaled, head swimming with the heat, the arousal and his own now insatiable need. 

He dug his claws into Jay’s thighs as his tongue circled his groin, Jay lifting his back off the floor as he arched into him. And the taste...Bruce couldn’t get enough, drinking in sweat and musk, his throat rumbling with deep, breathy growls as Jay unravelled beneath him. Hips and mouth fell into a steady rhythm, the room filled with sounds of pleasure and the smell of blood mixed in with the lust and the heat to throw Bruce into a frenzy until, with a final arch and a broken cry, Jay spilled himself into Bruce’s hot and open mouth. 

Bruce lapped it up greedily, every one of his senses reeling, breath coming in heavy pants. He lifted himself up on all fours and his eyes roamed Jay’s body, transfixed by the rise and fall of his chest, the way the sweat and saliva glistened on his skin. On the left hip were three long angry marks, blood trailing down Jay’s leg and onto the floor. Bruce leaned in again and carefully licked away the blood, cleaning the wound as if in apology, although the shudder that ran through Jay’s body made it clear there was nothing to apologise for. 

“Bruce.”

It was the first word Jay had spoken to him and immediately seized his attention. Hands went to Bruce’s face, coaxing him up to eye level where Jay gripped his waist and pressed their bodies together. The fire in Bruce’s gut had yet to be extinguished and it blazed with the contact, hips snapping forward for the friction he so desperately needed. He felt teeth and lips graze his skin, legs locking around his waist, fingers digging in, urging him on, begging for more. He clawed the floor as he thrust harder, faster, tasting blood again as he bit into Jay’s neck, snarls getting louder as pressure started to build in his groin. He was burning up, losing control and as the pressure reached a point where he thought it would burst, it began to change. The heat became unbearable, his snarls turning to whines as pleasure was overtaken by pain so excruciating he couldn’t even breathe. Jay dropped his legs, sensing the change and cradled Bruce’s head tightly to his chest, whispering words of comfort and reassurance to help Bruce through the agonising transition back to human.

When it was over, Bruce collapsed in Jay’s arms, trembling, covered in sweat and gasping for air.

“Darling?”

Bruce didn’t respond. He didn’t have the energy. If one change was exhausting, then two in less than twenty four hours pushed his body to its absolute limit. He struggled to even open his eyes, despite the warm and inviting tone of Jay’s voice and had no choice but to stay as he was, although that was hardly a chore. Jay’s fingers soothed as they ran through his hair, skin cool against his, Bruce’s eyelids becoming heavy...heavy...

When his eyes opened next, Bruce found himself in a room much smaller and darker than before. 

“You fell asleep.”

Bruce blinked until his vision was clear and saw Jay lying beside him, mouth spread in a warm and lazy grin. And then he felt the pillow beneath his head, the sheets covering his body and slowly realised where they were. His bedroom.

Bruce frowned. “How -”

“I have my ways,” Jay said cryptically, sliding closer to bump their noses together. “How do you feel?”

Bruce didn’t know. And, with the way Jay was looking at him, it was hard to care. His eyes were lidded, pink smudged across his kiss-swollen lips and the puncture marks in his neck sent a shiver down Bruce’s spine. He ran his fingers over them, scarcely able to believe what had happened. For Jay to be so willing to let a creature like him do things like  _ that _ …

As if reading his thoughts, Jay said, “Did I never tell you about my fetish for bats?”

Laughter was beyond Bruce for the moment so he settled for a hum. “I think it’s safe to say I’m now aware.”

Jay giggled and pressed a quick kiss to Bruce’s nose before the pair of them settled into silence once more. And, as Jay closed his eyes, Bruce’s mind began to run through all that’d happened, inevitably leading to thoughts of what was to come. He was going to lose Jay. He’d only just found him and now he was going to lose him and Bruce’s breath caught in his throat, overcome with helplessness.

“Jay,” he whispered, pressing a hand to the spot on Jay’s chest where a heartbeat should be.

Jay covered Bruce’s hand with his and sighed. “Not now,” he said. “Please?”

Bruce tried to argue but Jay pressed his fingers to his mouth as a hint of sharpness crept into his tone. “We’ve had a lovely evening, don’t spoil it.”

Jay’s eyes were pleading and as much as Bruce wanted to push, it was difficult to fight against it - Jay didn’t plead very often. So eventually Bruce nodded and Jay moved in for a kiss, slow and soft and full of so much love that Bruce felt his heart break. And as they kissed and lost themselves in each other once more, Bruce swore to himself that he would find a way to fix this. Whatever it took, whatever he had to give, he would do it.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still planning to turn this au into a proper fic sometime (although the monster fucking may not make it into that one I'll have to see). Thanks for reading!


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